One of the most dangerous stunts in showbiz isn’t the trapeze or the human cannonball, but resurrecting beloved old ghosts. We cherish our departed stars like members of our own family, and anybody who dares tread on their memory by portraying them had better be respectful about it – and good.

I’m happy to report that respect and talent can both be found in the cast of “I Love Lucy Live on Stage,” a play with music at the Segerstrom Center for the Arts that takes us back to Desilu Studios in the early 1950s to watch two episodes of the legendary sitcom being filmed.

The Segerstrom Hall stage contains the familiar Ricardo household (but in color!) and the bandstand at Ricky’s club, where a shrunken version of his Latin big band plays credible versions of “Babalu” and other songs associated with the Cuban showman. Two cameramen push their lumbering equipment around the set, and between acts we are serenaded by the Crystaltone Singers, who beseech us to see the U.S.A. in a Chevrolet (those of you who are old enough to remember that catchy jingle will enjoy some of the others in their repertoire).

This isn’t exactly how things rolled at Desilu when “Lucy” was filmed, of course, but this show’s producers received the blessing of CBS to embroider the basic story line – a restaging of “The Benefit” from Season 1 of “I Love Lucy” and “Lucy Has Her Eyes Examined” from Season 3 – with additional material. A chirpy master of ceremonies named Maury Jasper (Mark Christopher Tracy) warms up the crowd and also instructs us on when to applaud and other matters of etiquette. An officious stage manager (Tyler Milliron) keeps things moving and advises us at the beginning of the evening to turn off our transistor radios.

“I Love Lucy Live on Stage” originated in 2010 as one re-created episode of “I Love Lucy” with inserted live commercials and songs. The show’s investors liked the result well enough to order a full-length version, which debuted in a 99-seat L.A. theater in 2011. It had a six-month run and a waiting list for tickets.

The show is perhaps best suited for an intimate setting. In 3,000-seat Segerstrom Hall, it can seem a little overwhelmed at times, even though “Lucy’s” brand of comedy was based in part on vaudeville routines designed for big venues. And it is what it is: There’s no evidence here of the stars’ troubled marriage, the huge tensions of running early TV comedy’s biggest empire, or other things we learned later. This is simply a trip down memory lane and should be enjoyed as such.

Sirena Irwin and Bill Mendieta have done their homework, and they’re both convincing and endearing as Lucy and Ricky. They have the vocal and physical mannerisms nailed: Irwin can reproduce Lucy’s large catalog of clownish expressions, and she can let Lucy’s fake cry rip with uncanny precision; Mendieta captures Ricky’s swagger – that man knew how to enter a room – and he sounds remarkably like the Havana-born entertainer, down to the silly accent challenges and malaprops.

As Fred and Ethel Mertz, Kevin Remington and Joanna Daniels don’t reach the same level of verisimilitude, but they’re close enough to elicit gasps of pleasure when they first enter.

The large supporting cast plays a wild gallery of ’50s characters: fussy eye doctor, excitable housewife, harried professional girl. Director Rick Sparks keeps events galloping briskly, just like a Truman-era sitcom, and there are clever period touches. Four chairs are “cheated” to face downstage during a bridge game between the Ricardos and the Mertzes. In real life, everybody would be able to see everyone’s else’s cards. Sparks never lets us forget the degree of artifice involved in this era of entertainment that was only a generation removed from vaudeville and silent film.

That’s the best way to enjoy “I Love Lucy Live on Stage” – as a short, pleasant trip in the nostalgia machine. Ricky’s casual sexism, Fred Mertz’s health-endangering girth and the relentless product pitching are part of a more innocent era. Our enjoyment comes from the obliviousness of the characters to things that are now unacceptable – and the accompanying realization that we live in a hypersensitive age.

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